


Wetter is Better

by wintersoldier1989



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 00:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20498159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersoldier1989/pseuds/wintersoldier1989
Summary: You’ve had a rough day so Chris has a surprise waiting for you when you get home. Competition ensues.





	Wetter is Better

It’s been a long day.

A rip in your leggings early this morning was just the beginning, You’d raced to meet an unreasonable deadline in order to keep a problematic client happy all while covering for your co-worker who had called in sick. And what might be considered insignificant to some, had been the proverbial cherry on top when the barista at the coffee shop had informed you they were all out of your favourite pastry.

But now, the familiar jingle of a collar and click of paws on the hardwood greets you at the door and quickly has your frown turning into a smile. 

“Hey Bubba, you have a good day?” You ask in your doggy voice as you kneel to the floor, wrapping Dodger in your arms as he laps big, wet kisses all over your face. “Bet it was better than mine.”

You chuckle at his never-ending enthusiasm while kicking off your flats, making your way through the foyer and into the kitchen, Dodger not far behind. 

“Sit,” you encourage, reaching into the pantry to get him a treat. He’d earned it, being able to instantly improve your mood after a rough day at the office. 

With the sweetest look on his face, Dodger does as instructed and because you can’t help yourself, you toss him another doggy biscuit for good measure.

“Shhhh, don’t tell your Daddy,” you whisper, not quite sure where Chris was at the given moment.

After tucking the treats back into the pantry, the secret only between you and Dodger; your eye catches the large gift box that is clearly out of place on the countertop, 

“What do we have here?” you ask aloud, half wishing Dodger could answer you. But when all he gives is a quirk of his head, leaving you to your own devices.

Your heart skips a beat at the over the top bow. It isn’t your birthday or anniversary, so it truly is anybody’s guess what Chris is up to. You really shouldn’t be so surprised, Chris is always doing sweet, romantic gestures for you and it never ceases to make your heart flutter.

Your fingers play with the ribbon on the outrageously over the top bow, before finally giving it a tug, ready to see what’s inside the box. You slip the card out of the small, inconspicuous envelope. The words written in his familiar scrawl have you even more curious now. 

_Gear up, soldier._

“What do you have up your sleeves, Evans?” You ponder, lifting the top of the box to reveal a SuperSoaker. The water gun had been just one of many left over from his nephew’s birthday party a couple weeks prior. 

You pick up the weapon, making note of its heavy weight, clearly already loaded with ammunition and let out a laugh.

“Looks like we’re getting ready for battle, aren’t we, Dodge?” 

You shrug off your jacket and tie your hair up in a messy bun, not wanting to risk it interfering with your super sniper skills.

Tiptoeing through the house, super soaker slung across your body, you make a point of being extra quiet, aiming for the element of surprise. But much to your dismay, after clearing the main level of the house with Dodger still hot on your heels, you’re no closer to finding the man you’re both searching for.

“Where’s Daddy?” you ask the pup, and with the dependability of the best sidekick, Dodger leads you to the patio doors.

“Good boy!” you whisper, crouching down to rub between his ears. You don’t waste the opportunity to glance through the window and do some quick reconnaissance.

“Think you can hide outside forever, Evans?” you mutter under your breath, pumping your water gun to ensure optimal water pressure for the imminent battle. 

Dodger perks up at your use of his favourite word and starts to bark enthusiastically as you slide open the patio door. He shoots out from beside you, taking off like a bat out of hell into the backyard. 

You hold up your water gun, emulating the way your favourite actions heroes do in the movies, carefully scanning for any trace of movement.

“GOTCHA!” Chris’ cheerful voice shouts from behind, scaring the ever-loving crap out of you.

You shriek as the blast of cold water hits you, stinging your skin and streaming down your back. Despite the assault, you’re helpless against the instinct to turn towards your boyfriend. He doesn’t let up, still furiously pulling the trigger on his water gun, letting the forceful surge soak your top.

“Fuck!” you cry out, hands flying up to cover your face from the residual spray of the attack.

Dodger comes running up like the good sidekick he is in an attempt to save you from danger. He jumps all over Chris, not exactly acting as a guard dog but more so eager to participate in all the fun and games. 

“Get him, Dodge!” you encourage still very appreciative of your teammate nonetheless.

With Chris sufficiently distracted, you finally get your chance to strike and it’s with great pleasure that you pull the trigger and go straight for the kill shot, almost able to taste the victory of your revenge.

And it’s glorious. 

You can’t help but laugh at the hilariocity of the sight before you, a water-logged Chris scrambling to grab his water gun, which is proving to be difficult under the current circumstances. 

Absorbed in a premature mini victory celebration, you’re caught off-guard. “Shit!” you shout, realizing you’re completely out of ammo. You look up from your super soaker to meet your favourite pair of blue eyes which, unfortunately for you, are now full of mischief.

“Truce?” you offer, raising your hands up in defeat, all while giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

He closes the distance between you, his water gun still raised.

“Hmmm, let me think about it,” he says, pretending to ponder your plea.

Meanwhile, your gaze drifts downward to Chris’ soaked grey tee, the fabric clinging so beautifully to his muscles that you’re not one hundred percent positive that the dampness on your chin isn’t drool.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” he teases, lifting your chin with the tip of his gun.

“Huh?” is the most intelligible answer you can give while also being thoroughly preoccupied by the way his body stalks towards you.

“What are you offering in exchange for surrender?” He asks, his eyes wander to your lips and then even further south to where your bra is now visible through your wet top. 

_Ah, there’s the horny boyfriend you know and love._

“A kiss?” you propose, because to be honest you’re always up to tangling tongues with this gorgeous man. 

“How can I resist an offer like that?” He looks at you with such sincerity, you _almost _feel bad for what you do next.

You lean in, pressing your lips to his. The first contact making your own lust spike, but you fight through it for the sake of urging his mouth open and giving him a taste of your tongue. You know him well enough that as soon as your add in a faint whimper, it’s hook, line and sinker. The man’s a goner.

You nearly foil your own devious plan when his raspy moans meet your ears. You just want to drown in him, let him strip you of your sopping clothes and press his warm mouth all over your goosebump-ridden skin.

But you can’t let Dodger down, he’d been such a good sidekick. It would be a shame to let yourself be distracted by a pretty face and a perfect body – even if it is the prettiest face, with the most talented tongue, you’d ever had the pleasure of tasting. 

Chris’ hands drop to your hips pulling you close and you know it’s now or never. So with your boyfriend sufficiently lulled into a false sense of security, you make your move towards victory. With his hands busy on your ass, you tug Chris’ Super Soaker off of his shoulder and take off running. Your heart beats wildly in your chest while you full out sprint across the grass. 

You risk a brief glance backwards, watching Chris realize he’s been duped. Damn the man’s quick reflexes, because now he’s running, fully intent on catching you. 

Turning around you shoot without any regard for accuracy, just hoping by sheer luck you hit him with the spray while Chris gains on you with every one of his long strides. Dodger comes running up alongside you, as excited as ever to join in the chase. 

“Take that, Evans!” you shout. “You’re no match for us!”

Closing in on you with this impressive athleticism, Chris grabs you around the waist. Your feet leave the ground and he pulls your back flush to his chest, the Super Soaker tumbling to the ground. You can’t help the squeal of delight, unable to contain the joy running through you. Keeping up the ruse, you wiggle in his grasp pretending to try and escape, all the while truly loving being wrapped up in his strong arms.

“Looks like I’ve got you now,” he whispers in your ear, nipping at the lobe. Your chest heaves from the rush of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“You do, do you?” you reply with a smirk. “Because I’m pretty sure you’ve had me for a long time now.” 

Chris gives you another tight squeeze, the water droplets on his skin transferring onto yours, then he sets you back on solid ground. You turn to face him, placing a palm on each of his flushed cheeks. 

“Thank you for this,” you say, wanting him to know how truly appreciative you are of his gesture.

“I love you,” he says in return, tucking a piece of wet hair behind your ear before taking you in a slow, heartfelt kiss that you feel all the way to your toes.

This man is one in a million. The way he pays attention to the smallest detail and is always trying to make you smile. Without a doubt, he truly has the biggest heart of anyone you know.

“Would you think any less of me if I told you I had an ulterior motive? Besides seeing you smile and hearing you laugh?” he questions with a sly smile, his lips pink and plump from your kiss.

“You mean so you can gloat your victory over me for years to come?” 

Chris shakes his head.

“Water fight, meant getting to see you _like this_,” he confesses, his eyes roaming over your chest once again as he moves in for another kiss.

But before he reaches his target, you erupt in laughter at his admission knowing full well that Chris has a weakness for your body just as much as you do for his.

“You and me both, baby,” you giggle, roaming hands lifting the wet fabric of his shirt, searching for bare skin.

“Communing with the enemy, soldier?” he teases, loving the way your touch warms him.

“Promise you won’t tell, Captain?” you beg, even adding a coy grin for effect.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, breath growing tight. The earnest tone of his words taking you both out of your little roleplay. But you don’t mind; all you can think about is how much you love this man and what would be the quickest way to strip him of all his clothes.

Making your intent known, you press your hips flush to him, able to feel just how much he wants you too.

You slip your hands inside the waistband of his basketball shorts, rocking the heel of your hand along his already half-hard length and watch the way his eyelids flutter at the contact.

“Now you’re fighting dirty, sweetheart,” he all but moans as you take him in your hand and giving him the squeeze you know he craves.

You gasp in surprise, your feet being swept out from under you as Chris lifts you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. Mouths sealed together, you’re at a loss at how he’s able to navigate the backyard with such ease and without the faculty of sight.

It feels like that scene from _The Notebook_, where Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams are soaked from the rain, furiously making out in the foyer. Chris props you up against the glass of the patio door, hands still firmly gripped to your ass cheeks while his tongue for lack of a better word, fucks your mouth.

You break your lips from his, not only to catch your breath but because you know that you’ll never make it inside otherwise. Chris fumbles with the handle and it takes him a couple more tries before he successfully slides the door open. You give him the benefit of the doubt since you know most of the blood in his body is currently filling the impressive erection pressing against your belly instead of his brain.

He stumbles until you’re unceremoniously plopped on the kitchen table; your shriek of surprise quickly turning into a moan as Chris’ mouth presses kisses along the waistband of your leggings and his hands are tugging them down your legs. You lift your ass helping him strip you, the heat in your core at a full rolling boil, ready for Chris to take you.

“Take off your shirt,” you order wanting to see Chris in all his glory. Reaching behind him, he yanks on the collar, the fabric gone from his body in the blink of an eye, in that unbelievably sexy way only guys can do. 

You lean back on one hand and give him your most seductive smile.

Chris moves to close the space between you, but you lift a foot to his shoulder keeping him at a safe distance. Keeping up with the game of cat and mouse, you mewl, “So how exactly do you plan on getting me to spill all my military secrets you, Captain?” 

He takes your ankle in his hand, holding it in place while he begins to press chaste kisses up your leg.

“I _*kiss*_ have _*kiss*_ my _*kiss*_ ways, _*kiss*_ Soldier,” he says in answer to your question. 

Your chest heaves with want while your clit throbs, Chris’ lips having made their way to the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

You’re propped up on two elbows now, your body growing heavy with desire. Chris kneels on the hardwood floor of the dining room, and it’s all the indication you need to know what he has in mind.

“I thought the US military was against using torture techniques,” you argue, eyes glued to the fingers nearing the crotch of your panties.

Chris stretches the fabric, letting the cool air hit your hot pussy. He runs a thumb over the lace, finding it already slick.

“So wet, sweetheart. Now, I don’t think _this_ wetness is from our little water fight.” 

“I beg to differ,” you dispute, you head falling back and a shiver running up your back as he exhales against your glistening heat. The pressure of a lone finger has you letting out a soft moan and a jerk of your hips in a silent plea for more.

“You like that?” he muses before adding another finger between your folds.

“Yes,” you gasp. And as your reward Chris pulls the fabric of your panties down your legs, exposing you fully.

Chris settles between your spread thighs and shiny pussy. With a look of pure determination, he hooks your knees over his arms, cups your ass in his palms and is clearly ready to go to work. 

You let yourself recline completely against the table, knowing that soon enough your whole body will be jello. The man could easily add champion pussy eater to his resume. But instead of the ravenous assault you crave, that you expect, he starts out soft, giving gentle kisses all around your heat; the faint licks of his tongue on your skin barely detectable.

His pace is frustrating, teasing and not nearly enough. 

You reach between your legs, fingers latching forcefully in the thick tufts of brown hair on his head. “That’s not going to get you any government secrets,” you inform him. You’re not in the mood for slow, you want him to eat you like you’re the last meal he’s ever going to have and you let him know by rutting your hips, grinding them against his face like a desperate whore.

Loving the way you’re all riled up and not one to disregard a warning, Chris finally indulges you. Long laps through your folds punctuated with sucks of your most sensitive flesh. Your clit rolls against the flick of his tongue and he slides a finger inside. Your back arches off the table at the double dose of pure pleasure he’s giving you.

You release your hold on his hair but he doesn’t dare ease up. Your hands wander up to your chest, squeezing your breasts roughly while he continues to feast. 

Strained moans fill the air and Chris lifts his head, catching his breath but also needing to see you writhe while his fingers pump in and out of your pretty, wet pussy. The sounds of your body milking his digits turns you on even more and has a rush of heat permeating deep in your belly.

Chris goes back to fast licks and sucks, and for the briefest moment you lament that he’d shaved for his latest role. You miss the burn of his beard on your thighs, pricking the swollen flesh of your pussy lips while he gorges himself on you.

Your hips rut wildly, looking anywhere and everywhere for him.

Chris brings you to the edge, you can feel your orgasm teetering so close. He rears back, but doesn’t completely abandon you, he firmly runs his thumbs along the V between your thighs.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re so close, let go,” he coaches, leaning lust close enough to blow a gust of hot breath over you.

“Fuuuuccckkk, I’m gonna come babe,” you sigh at his encouraging words. You feel high from all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body’s coiled so tight, you’re almost afraid of what’s going to happen when it bursts.

The intensity of your orgasm takes you both by surprise, Chris watches with rapt attention, while you fling and arm over your face while your pussy contracts and spills all over the table.

He’s wide-eyed as if he’d just caught Santa Claus coming through the chimney with a bag full of presents.

“That was new,” you can hear the awe in his voice.

“Brings a whole new meaning to Super Soaker,” you croak from under your arm barrier, feeling slightly embarrassed at the mess you made.

Ever attentive, soft strokes of his hands run up and down your legs, comforting you. He moves to stand over you, bringing his slick covered lips to yours in a searing kiss. “Wow babe, that was fucking hot.”

Giving you a well-deserved and much needed moment to recover, Chris grabs his tee and makes a feeble attempt to clean up with the still-wet garment.

“Looks like we’re never having your mother over for dinner ever again,” you surmise as you move to sit up.

Chris lets out a belly laugh at the dead serious expression on your face. “Don’t worry about it, it’ll be our little secret.” He seals his promise with a kiss before pulling you in for hug while you bury your still warm cheeks against his chest.

With his muscular body pressed up against you, you’re suddenly reminded that only one of you had a brain-bending orgasm and that his dick is still painfully hard.

“I didn’t hold up my end of the deal, you distracted me with your talent mouth, Evans.” You shoot him a glare of faux-annoyance.

“And I don’t regret it in the slightest,” he replies.

“No, you set all this up to make me feel better after a real shitty day at work, and now I’m going to make you feel good too.”

“Just being with you makes me feel amazing, don’t worry about me.”

“I’m just trying to be practical, Christopher. If we already have to burn the table, we may as well properly defile it,” you propose, shedding your top and bra then turning over and positioning yourself on your knees. With your slick and swollen pussy on display, you were pretty sure you had made your intent perfectly clear.

“Well I wouldn’t want to be _wasteful,” _he contemplates, while newfound lust shrouds his gaze.

You smile to yourself, knowing that another round of pleasure is imminent but you take the opportunity to taunt him anyway; the boy did assault you with a water gun, after all.

With a seductive wiggle of your hips, you look over your shoulder to meet Chris’ blue eyes, “Hurry up and fuck me, Evans, it’s no wonder I won the Super Soaker battle.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asks, stalking towards the table, unable to help himself from running a lone finger through your folds once again and bringing it up to his mouth. “I’m pretty sure the jury is still out on who the winner is.”

“First one to orgasm wins,” you announce the terms of the contest, while enjoying the shiver that runs through you at the mere thought of another climax.

“Challenge accepted, sweetheart.” 

You watch as Chris yanks down his shorts and takes himself in his hand, giving his cock a few experimental squeezes, it’s the most mesmerizing sight. You file it away for the next time he’s out of town.

He pulls you to him and gently lowers your feet to the floor, knowing this way he’ll be able to get the leverage he needs to fuck you as hard as you want. You feel Chris guide himself to your heat, teasing you as he slides his cockhead over you. He doesn’t do it for long, much too tempted by the promise of being buried deep inside. The feel of his thick cock at your entrance never gets old, and you can’t help the way your body instinctively moves to swallow him.

Chris wraps one hand on your hip while the other makes its way to the base of your neck, keeping you still as he slides in slowly, sheathing himself in the perfect heat of your pussy.

“Yes, just like that,” you hear him muse from behind you. “So good.”

Your eyes fall closed at the feeling stretched and full, you can’t help the way your hips roll trying to adjust, eager for his cock to hit the perfect spot and once again seal your victory. He presses kisses along your spine, almost as if to reward you for being so patient.

When Chris starts with slow, teasing pumps of his hips, you groan in frustration. “Not this again,” you complain. 

You hear him half laugh, half-moan. “You make it so easy to tease you. But don’t fret, I’ve got a trophy to win.”

He doesn’t let you down, his cock begins to pump into you like there’s nowhere else it’d rather be and with the grunts and curses coming from your boyfriend’s mouth you’re inclined to say he’d eagerly agree. This is a competition after all, you expected him to bring his A-game.

All composure now lost, you’re both bouncing together with each frantic thrust. Chris is close and completely unrestrained; he lets out one of your favourite high-pitched moans. Your head is buried in the crook of one arm, the other reaching down to play with yourself, hoping to beat him to the punch.

He buries his cock deep, Chris’ fingers digging unforgivingly into the flesh of your hips when he finally lets go, spilling into you. You love the way he fills you, but it’s not quite enough. So while he’s still hard, you rut your hips and roll your clit between your fingers, a tried and true combination that quickly earns you the tingles you crave.

His forehead rests on your back, you’re pretty sure Chris is just trying to catch his breath and regain his faculties. Overcome with just the slightest bit of pettiness at your defeat, you squeeze his sensitive cock once more and he nips between your shoulder blades in return. “Love you, too.”

Fully satiated and covered by the weight of Chris’ warm body, it’s needless to say your day has significantly improved.

He slips out and sits you back on the tabletop and situates himself between your legs. You feel his release running down your thigh, another flush of embarrassment warms over you but Chris is quick to distract you with a kiss. He steals another and then nuzzles his lips atop your mess of damp hair.

“Congratulations on your win,” you say acknowledging your loss but unable to hide the smile that tells him how very happy you are.

His lips meet yours once again morphing into a smirk, “And as my prize… I’m keeping the table.”


End file.
